This Summer
by math-monkey
Summary: A fanslide for "This Summer" by Superchunk.


Fanslide for "This Summer" by Superchunk.

/

I twirled a lock of my blonde hair between my fingers absentmindedly as the television in the corner droned on about the next few days of sun, sun, sun. I wanted to plan the perfect summer day. Or maybe just a summer night. I guess it didn't really matter what the time was, but I wanted a perfect summer _something_. Not for me though. For her.

I couldn't stop the smile from gracing my lips as I looked up. My smile grew when my eyes fell upon her, her dark hair tied up in a messy bun atop her head as she placed the final clean dish on the drying rack before quickly rubbing her hands with a towel. She stilled then, her head tilting to the side as her neck turned slightly so she could just barely see me out of the corner of her eye. I laughed, brushing hair from my forehead, waiting for her to turn completely.

"What's up, babe?" she asked me once she turned to face me.

I shrugged, grinning wildly. I reached a hand out toward her and she complied with my silent request, stepping closer until my face pressed against her stomach, her left hand in my right, her other hand stroking through the hair at the back of my head softly.

"You're off tomorrow, right?" I asked, my cheek still pressed against the cotton of her shirt.

"Mm-hmm," came her response, and I felt the vibrations on the side of my face.

"Cool."

She moved her hands to my face and cupped my cheeks, forcing me to look up at her. One of her eyebrows was hitched up and I couldn't help the small blush that crept up my cheeks.

"What are you planning, Brittany?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes, because of course she would know, even if I'd only just had the thought moments before. She always knew.

"We're gonna have a perfect summer something tomorrow," I answered, my eyes not leaving hers.

I didn't think her left eyebrow could go any higher, but Santana was always surprising me.

"Summer something?" she asked, her hands finally leaving my face and landing on my shoulders as she took a tiny step back to get a better look at me.

"Yeah," I nodded, the grin returning to my face.

She didn't ask any more questions; she didn't need to. If there was one thing that never failed, it was that Santana knew that my nonsense always made more sense in the end than anything else in the world. Last Christmas, when I asked her if she knew how beautiful her snow-eyes were, she had told me that it was a gift. My crazy word mash-ups and nonsensical ideas were the smartest things she had ever heard.

/

It was nearly noon by the time we reached the water tower by my work. It was always hard to make ourselves leave the apartment when we both had a day off. There were too many things about each other that we missed during the 5 work days that we both had in a row.

Santana had made us sandwiches and packed baby carrots because she knew they were my favorite. I liked to pretend I was a giant vegetable monster and eat as many as I could in a single minute. Her hair fell down over her shoulders as she stood beside me, her eyes squinting even behind her giant sunglasses as she looked up above us.

"Really, Britt?" she asked, not turning to face me.

"C'mon," I answered, reaching for her hand and not bothering to give her any kind of explanation. "You first."

She climbed the ladder slowly and I followed patiently. She wasn't afraid of heights, that much I knew, but it didn't stop her from making sure her grip on each wrung was tight before hoisting herself up to the next.

The sun was beating down hard on us by the time we reached the top, and I fanned the front of my tank top against my stomach, wiping a few beads of sweat from my forehead before turning to face Santana. I reached for her hand again and pulled her to the small bit of shade at the other side, sitting down slowly and dangling my legs over the edge. She followed my movements without uttering a word.

We ate our sandwiches in silence, stealing glances at each other every so often, and neither of us could have wiped the smiles from our faces even if we'd wanted to.

"Happy Second Summer," I said to her once she'd finished her sandwich.

She looked up at me as a kind of realization became clear on her face, and she scooted closer to me, her hands falling to grasp mine in my lap.

"Britt-Britt," she started, and the heat of the California sun made her look more radiant than ever.

I didn't let her finish, I couldn't resist the sudden urge I felt in my chest.

I kissed her softly, slowly, trying to tell her everything I felt without making a sound. I know she understood, could feel her speaking back to me just through a kiss, as one of her hands moved up to softly run her fingers along my neck.

We pulled back at the same time, all smiles and flushed cheeks.

"I love you."

"I love you too."


End file.
